Four Days, Wide Awake
by Meryl Edan
Summary: Will comforts Sharon during the Ally Moore case.
1. Chapter 1

_**Four Days, Wide Awake pt.1 (The Closer: Sharon/Will)**_  
>Title: Four Days, Wide Awake (14)  
>Rating: MA<br>Words: ~3600  
>Disclaimer: Characters property of their creators.<p>

Will Pope watched Sharon Raydor pace the length of his office. Whatever was on her mind, she was struggling to get it out, and in his not-yet caffeinated state, Will didn't have the patience to let her work at her own speed.

Sharon Raydor was never the first person he wanted to see in the morning, given that her presence meant that either an officer-involved shooting had occurred the night before, or she had some complaint to lodge about Brenda Johnson or another of his staff.

"Captain Raydor," he barked. "I don't have all day."

Sharon stopped mid-stride in front of Will's desk. Though her feet had stilled, she continued to fidget, alternately adjusting her glasses, scratching her head, and worrying the single sheet of paper in her hands. She opened and closed her mouth several times, still hesitating to speak. Finally, she thrust the paper forward, then crossed her arms and turned to begin marching the span of the room again.

Will pulled his glasses to the end of his nose and skimmed the report before him.

Domestic abuse. One of her subordinates. No wonder she was upset.

He placed the paper down on his desk and looked up again to find Sharon stopped in front of him once more, wringing her hands and watching him intently. In her expression he read anger, frustration, and something else, something he'd never seen on Sharon Raydor's face before: supplication.

She was asking for his help.

"Captain Raydor," he said, softer this time, and gestured for her to take a seat. "You know what needs to happen here."

Sharon nodded. '"I know that an assault on an officer requires an investigation by Major Crimes."

Will nodded. "Chief Johnson will handle the case. Are you prepared for that?"

Sharon didn't answer, but crossed her arms again and looked away, petulant.

By now, Sharon and Brenda's feud was so well-known it had become locker room talk. On more than one occasion, upon entering the gym, or the cafeteria, or the bar the beat cops frequented across the street, Will had overheard jokes about the two women, jokes that always seemed to end with a punch line along the lines of "cougar fight" and be accompanied by hissing noises and lewd gestures.

Perhaps if Will only heard about their bickering secondhand, he'd find it a turn-on too. But as he was the one who had to step in to resolve their disputes, their rivalry was primarily an inconvenience to him.

"I'll bring Chief Johnson in here in an hour. You'll brief her then."

"Yes, sir." Sharon stood and smoothed her clothes. Will noticed the tremble in her hands as she clutched the hem of her jacket.

"Sharon."

She started at his use of her first name.

"We'll get this straightened out."

"Yes, sir," Sharon repeated. She stood up straight and strode out.

Will landed a final bout of blows on the punching bag before him, then stepped back, breathing hard. He checked the clock on the wall. 8:26 p.m. It had been a quick workout, but he felt much better for it.

As if he didn't have enough to handle in his regular course of duties, Raydor and Johnson had been at each other's throats all day, Brenda's team fueling the fire with their own comments and artistic activities.

Agitated by the irritating but predictable events of the day so far, Will had walked down to FID in the early afternoon to check on Sharon and remind her of her proper role in the Moore investigation. Set to lay into her about her confrontation with Brenda, Will barged straight into Sharon's office.

He stopped short at the sight in front of him.

Sharon was sitting in her chair, tissues in her hands, her eyes red and puffy. Her glasses lay on her desk next to an untouched salad.

Photographs of bruises-fingermarks and deep purple welts-were strewn out before her.

Sharon jumped at the intrusion and stood, holding her hands behind her back to hide the tissues from him. "Chief Pope, what can I do for you?"

Will's intent to deliver a stern reminder of her role in this case was suddenly tempered by empathy, and more than a glimmer of wonder at the gentler side of Sharon Raydor that was emerging before him today. That look was back on her face, the one he'd seen that morning when she'd handed him her statement. She looked at him expectantly, hopefully, and he realized she thought he was there to deliver news about the case.

She wasn't anticipating a reprimand and in that moment, Will decided not to give her one. Instead, he stated, "I understand that Chief Johnson's team was unable to turn up anything in their canvass of Moore's neighborhood. I'm sorry."

Sharon seemed to shrink in on herself at the information. She dropped into her chair and turned back toward the photographs, shaking her head. She sat there, raw and exposed before him.

Will felt a sudden urge to go to her, and under other circumstances he may have. But this was Captain Raydor, this was a case, and they both had work to do. He excused himself quickly and left.

Will removed his gloves and began slowly unwinding the tape from his hands. He drained the remaining contents of his water bottle, then headed out to the main area of the gym to refill it.

The gym was empty at this time of evening-Will always tried to get his workout in during the hour before a shift change, before the off-shift beat cops descended and turned the place into a cacaphony of clanking barbells and macho grunts. The only other people in the gym were a few officers doing a circuit and a lone woman running at the far end of the long row of treadmills.

Sharon Raydor.

Will had to do a double-take, unaccustomed as he was to seeing her in the gym. Sharon's hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore a slim tank and half-split shorts. The cut of the shorts exposed almost the entire length of her leg, and Will found himself momentarily mesmerized by the way her quadriceps defined on each step.

She ran at a quick pace, her movements economic. On the few occasions Will had allowed himself to think about Sharon's body at length, he'd surmised she was a runner-the shape of her calves was a good indication. Now he was sure of it. Her skin glowed with a thin sheen of sweat, but she didn't appear to be laboring.

She hadn't spotted him and Will realized he could sneak into the locker rooms undetected if he wished. But Will had felt guilty all afternoon about the way he'd left her upset in her office. He could at least have the decency to check in on _her_once, apart from the case.

Will refilled his water bottle at the fountain near the free weights and then made his way toward Sharon. She didn't notice him until he was nearly upon her, so lost was she in her thoughts or whatever she was piping into her ears via the earbuds she wore.

Will halted in front of her machine. Sharon watched him, but made no move to stop.

He peered over the front of the treadmill to look at her mileage. Shaking his head, he reached up and over the control panel to turn off the machine.

As the belt slowed beneath her, Sharon eased into a walk and finally met his gaze. "Can I help you, Chief?" she asked, pulling out her earbuds.

"That's enough. You should go home. You've had a long day."

"I'd like to finish my workout first."

Will could tell she was trying to sound unaffected, but he'd gotten better at reading her over the course of the day and he knew she was still uneasy.

"Eight miles in under an hour is plenty, Captain. Go home and rest. You've done all you can do for her today."

Sharon continued to walk. Will offered her his water bottle and after a moment's hesitation, she accepted. She took several small sips and then dumped some water into her hands to douse over her face and neck.

Will watched as several droplets of water trailed down her chest, finally disappearing beneath the low neckline of her tank. When his eyes met hers again, she was smirking slightly. Will cleared his throat and took his water bottle from her outstretched hand. Sharon stopped her treadmill and stepped off, and the two made their way toward the exit.

Outside their respective locker rooms, Will slowed. On a whim, fueled perhaps by guilt at his earlier coolness toward her, perhaps by lingering concern over her worried state, and perhaps, just a tiny bit, by the way those drops of water had run down her chest, Will blurted, "listen, Sharon, would you like to grab a drink, maybe something to eat?"

Sharon studied him for a long minute, her eyes narrowed and her head tilted. She seemed skeptical, like she was trying to deduce what nefarious intent he might have with the invitation.

Will tucked his boxing gloves under his arm and placed his other hand on his hip. "I just thought maybe you'd like some company tonight. If you don't, or if you have other plans..."

"No," she interrupted. "That's very kind of you. I'm just surprised. No one ever-" She stopped and shrugged, a slight flush now creeping across her cheeks. Will couldn't help but chuckle.

The tension eased for the moment, Sharon spoke again. "I don't know that I have the energy for a bar. I was planning to go home and order in some Thai. You'd be welcome to join me."

Will smiled. "I'd love to."

Sharon's apartment was open and light, and very neat. Will toed off his shoes inside the door when he saw Sharon do the same, then followed her back to her kitchen. "Twenty minutes," she informed him after placing their order. "Would you like a drink? I have a bottle of pinot grigio open."

"Terrific," Will answered.

She poured a glass for him, then one for herself, and gestured for him to follow her to her couch. Will sat, and Sharon took a seat next to him, tucking her bare feet up beneath her.

"You've been good to me today. Thank you for your help, Chie- Will.." she corrected tentatively.

"Will," he affirmed, nodding. "Nothing to thank me for. You did the right thing, reporting Detective Moore's injuries. I know it was difficult. And I know working with Brenda doesn't excite you but there was no way around that."

"It doesn't please her either, working with the Wicked Witch of the West," Sharon quipped.

Will frowned. "You saw that, huh?"

"I did. Commander Taylor was a bit too slow to cover it when I walked in this afternoon. Purposefully slow, I'm quite sure."

"You can't take that too seriously. They're just blowing off steam."

Sharon tossed her head, her jaw set. "I know how it works. And I'm used to it by now."

Will wanted to reassure her but he couldn't think of anything to say about the importance of FID's work that didn't sound trite.

Silence fell between them until Will deadpanned, "I think it was the Wicked Witch of the East anyway, the one the house fell on."

Sharon struggled to keep a straight face, but quickly collapsed into giggles. It felt good-she relaxed back into the couch, laughing fully now.

Will grinned broadly. He didn't think he'd ever heard Sharon Raydor laugh before. Smirk, at best. But her full-throated laughter was musical. He didn't want it to stop.

He tried not to stare as, still giggling, she set her glass on the low table in front of them and removed her blazer. The way she rolled her shoulders, the arch of her back as she shrugged out of the garment, the strain of her full breasts against the slim-fitting shirt she wore beneath... Will looked down into his glass quickly before she could catch him ogling her.

Just in time to save him from embarrassment, Sharon's phone rang and she buzzed in the delivery person. Will cut her off as she moved toward the door, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. "I've got this," he told her.

Sharon quickly set her small dining table, and Will was pleased to see as he carried the large paper bag over that she'd seated them both on the same corner of the square table, rather than across from each other. Will was ceasing to deny to himself that he wanted Sharon close.

The two sat and dug into their food, Will pretending to be unable to use chopsticks just to receive a lesson. The two laughed at his bumbling and then settled back into easy conversation, until Will remarked, "It's nice to hear you laugh tonight. I'd never seen you as upset as you were today about Moore."

Sharon stiffened, her chopsticks stilling in midair.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I brought it up again," Will backpedaled, mentally kicking himself.

"No, don't be sorry. I just, we were talking and it was nice and I was distracted when I should be worried about her. I _am_worried about her, oh god." Sharon stood and began pacing, much as she'd done in his office that morning.

"Sharon, I said this already-you've done all you can do. She's an adult. You can't protect her."

"I know, I know," she said, but she wouldn't sit down again.

This morning they'd been in this same position. Sharon had been agitated and suffering, and all Will wanted was to get her out of his office as quickly as possible. But somehow, over the course of the day, Will had done a complete about-turn. Now he was desperate for a way to distract her, to comfort her.

He watched her for several moments in the continued hope that she'd settle down on her own. When it became clear she was only becoming more animated, he stood, marched over to her, caught her by the shoulders and kissed her squarely.

Sharon froze, and Will wondered for an instant if he'd made a wrong move. But then Sharon leaned into him, pressing her mouth against his.

Will pulled back and leaned his forehead to hers. "You need to calm down. Take a deep breath," he commanded.

She acquiesced and inhaled, then exhaled slowly. She closed her eyes.

"There. Is that better?" Will asked softly.

"It helps," Sharon answered, taking another deep breath.

Will released her shoulders and slid his hands around to her lower back, where he began to knead gently with the pads of his fingers. Bending his head down, mouth close to her ear, he murmured, "does that help?"

"It helps," she repeated, as her hands found their way to his chest and she rested her head against his shoulder.

Will took his time massaging his way up Sharon's back. His thumbs slid up her sides as he went and he delighted in the feel of her, the curve of her hips, the sharp tuck in at her waist, the ridges of her bottom ribs, the softness of the outermost sides of her breasts. She let him go where he wanted, neither pulling away nor trying to guide his touch, and he felt pleased at the trust she showed him.

His hands reached her shoulders and he slid them beneath her hair to her neck, where he rubbed gently before sliding his fingers up along her scalp, fistfuls of her thick hair filling his hands. At this touch, Sharon did respond-with a whimper and a turn of her head.

"Did I pull your hair? I'm sorry," Will said, concerned.

"No, no." He felt her smile into his neck. "It feels so good."

Will continued his motions, alternately sliding his fingers up the back of her scalp and then combing them out through the long strands, until her breathing had completely eased and she rested languidly against his chest.

He placed his thumbs along Sharon's jaw and tilted her head back to see her face. Her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted-all the invitation Will needed to claim her mouth again. This time she opened to him and allowed him to caress her tongue with his. She sighed as he tilted her head back to devour her neck, his hand now braced on her lower back to support her.

Sharon's arms moved to circle his neck and his hands slipped to her waist, guiding her two steps backward to pin her back to the wall. Lifting her just slightly, Will slipped one thigh between hers and slid her down, the contact drawing a low moan from Sharon's throat. He drew her hips up again, encouraging her to rock against him, smiling against her mouth as he felt her take up the motion on her own.

Unable to resist even another minute, Will stroked upward from Sharon's waist to her chest, first ghosting his thumbs across her nipples, then palming her breasts fully. Sharon responded with a breathy "oh," and arched into his touch.

"Still good?" Will murmured into Sharon's neck.

"Yes," she breathed, her hands now roaming the expanse of his back.

"Couch, maybe?" he questioned with a suggestive roll of his hips into hers.

"No," she answered, shaking her head and pushing him away from her.

Will stood up straight and dropped his hands from her chest back to her waist. He raised an eyebrow in question.

"This way." Sharon took him by the hand and led him down the hall to her bedroom. Will stopped in the doorway and watched as Sharon closed her curtains and adjusted the small bedside lamp. She returned to stand in front of him.

"Are you sure?" Will asked her, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"You've been good to me today," she shrugged.

Will furrowed his brow, suddenly concerned. "I don't want a reward."

"You don't?"

"No, Sharon," Will scratched his head in frustration. He looked back to Sharon standing before him. Her lips were swollen and her cheeks flushed and he was dying to toss her onto the oh-so-inviting bed behind her, but first she needed to understand this.

"I don't want a reward for backing you up today. The idea disgusts me, actually." Sharon dropped her gaze at that but Will lifted her chin to force her to look at him again. "I want you."

"Me," she said slowly, comprehension dawning.

Will nodded. "You." He wiggled an eyebrow suggestively in the hopes of lightening the mood again. "The Wicked Witch of the East."

It worked. Sharon collapsed into laughter, clutching at her sides.

Will growled and tackled her back onto the bed.

They made short work of each other's clothes and then lay still, face to face on their sides. Sharon's leg was slung over Will's hip and he traced the underside of her thigh slowly with his fingertips. She leaned in to kiss him, then reached between them to take his length into her hand and guide it to her. She flexed her thigh around his waist, pulling him closer, easing him in.

She stilled, her breathing shallow.

Will kissed her and slid a hand down between them to stroke her clit gently with his thumb. Sharon hummed and clung to him, her arms around his neck. After a moment of Will's ministrations, he felt her ease to take him deeper. His hand returned to her thigh and he began to move them slowly, delighting at her soft moans and sighs.

She felt heavenly, tight and wet around him and the rest of her soft and pliant against his torso. He captured her mouth with his and they groaned into each other as Will began to thrust more forcefully.

It wasn't enough. He rolled Sharon onto her back and moved over her, drawing her other leg around his waist as well before resuming his motion. He drew columns of open mouthed kisses along her neck, feeling the vibrations of the hum in her throat. Sharon released Will's shoulders to grasp the headboard behind her, and Will covered her hands with his own.

"Faster," Sharon pleaded, drawing her legs higher around his torso in encouragement.

Will quickened his pace and changed his angle a bit and Sharon cried out long and low. He reached between them to urge her along and soon she was arching hard against the mattress, her fists white-knuckled in the sheets. Will followed her in release, her name on his lips.

As soon as awareness returned, Will rolled them back onto their sides and pulled Sharon close. Sleep claimed them both before either had the opportunity to second-guess what had just happened.

The insistent chirp of Will's phone roused him. Sharon woke as he tried to disentangle his legs from hers and watched him, heavy-lidded, as he searched through the clothing strewn over the floor.

He located his phone inside Sharon's pant leg. "Pope," he answered.

As the voice on the other end of the line spoke, Will met Sharon's gaze. She must have seen his concern because she sat up, pulling the throw blanket up to cover herself.

Will ended the call and pulled on his boxers before sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Sharon.

"It's Ally Moore."


	2. Chapter 2

Will Pope stripped down to his boxers and sprawled onto his bed. He glanced at the glowing face of the clock on his nightstand. 3:45 a.m. He'd have to be up again in three hours; it was hardly worth going to sleep at all and he'd probably feel worse for it tomorrow.

On a whim, he reached over the edge of the bed to pluck his shirt from the floor. He pressed it to his face and inhaled deeply. Sharon's scent was faint, but it was there. She'd pulled his dress shirt on when she'd gone to her kitchen to make coffee for them quickly before they both headed out to the crime scene.

The vision of her retreating form-long, shapely legs extending beneath the hem of his shirt-was still bright in his mind, and Will indulged it. He remembered the feel of those legs, all smooth skin and lean muscle, around him mere hours earlier.

Clutching his shirt, Will breathed her in again and began to relax. He'd spent the past two hours at the crime scene, reading statements and giving orders. Sharon appeared there after driving to UCLA Medical Center to check on Ally Moore. She'd wanted to get right to work, but Will had sent her home to rest, telling her to come back later in the morning once the area had been cleaned up.

He'd walked her to her car and stood silently as she dug her keys from her purse. She unlocked her car door and then turned to meet his gaze. The street lights high above them accentuated the dark shadows under her eyes, and Will had wanted to kiss them, and then tuck her into bed so she could sleep them away. She looked tired, but her expression as she regarded him was content.

"Thank you for tonight, Will."

He cocked one eyebrow, earning a laugh.

Sharon shook her head. "That's not what I meant." She readjusted her bag on her shoulder. "I meant, thank you for making sure I was okay, I guess."

"No need to thank me. I had a nice time with you."

Now it was Sharon's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Good night, Will."

"Good night."

Will opened her car door for her and she'd slipped inside. Will hesitated, not closing the door yet, and Sharon looked at him questioningly.

"I'd like to see you again," he'd said, not sure where the words came from, but certain he meant them once they were out.

To his relief and delight, Sharon smiled up at him. "I'd like that too."

If someone had told him when he began work yesterday morning that he'd end the day in Sharon Raydor's bed, he'd have laughed outright. If he could've been convinced to believe it at all, he'd have assumed their tryst would have been about anger or frustration. That was the only way he knew how to relate to Sharon before.

But yesterday he'd seen a different side of her. Her cool exterior had receded to reveal tenderness underneath. Will puzzled over that thought for a moment and realized he wasn't drawn to the more emotional side of her, but rather, he was attracted to the way these two halves of her fit together. Yesterday her compassion had been tempered by professionalism, as she'd accepted-however reluctantly-Brenda's determination of how the case should proceed. But her professionalism had been illuminated by humanity as well, in that she'd insisted that Moore be protected throughout the investigation.

Warm and cool, soft and tough, vulnerable and impenetrable, Sharon Raydor was a series of dichotomies that merged together into one very appealing whole.

* * *

The shrill buzz of his alarm clock jolted Will awake and he clutched frantically at the device until he was able to stop the horrid noise. His head was pounding, his mouth was dry, and he absolutely positively was in no condition to get up and go to work.

An hour later he was stepping into his office, still bleary despite two cups of coffee at home and another in the car on the way in. His nerves were raw and his temper was helped in no way by some information he was given as he passed through the front office that morning. The size of the trouble Brenda caused him never ceased to amaze him.

At least this time might be the last, he thought to himself. Small comfort there.

When Brenda finally arrived at work, he dealt with her quickly-possibly venting more anger than necessary, but certainly not more than she deserved-then stormed back to his office where he spent the next few hours on the stacks of paperwork on the Moore case already awaiting him.

Around noon he joined Sharon and Brenda to observe Commander Taylor interrogate the sergeant involved in the OIS. Being in a confined space with these two women always rankled him, but this time was almost more than he could take. One woman he wanted to be as far from as possible, and the other he was drawn to with something bordering on desperation. He paced in the back of the small observation room, struggling to focus on the interview taking place and to ignore the way Sharon's skirt stretched taut across her hips. Will couldn't be out of there quickly enough, and at the conclusion of the interview he retreated back to his office.

A few minutes later there was a soft knock at his door. "Come in," Will called, standing and taking a deep breath with which to resume shouting at Brenda when she stepped inside.

But instead of Brenda, Sharon entered. She held a lidded coffee cup and a white paper bag in one hand while she closed the door behind her with the other.

"I brought you coffee," she explained, placing the cup on his desk and setting the paper bag down next to it. "And a sandwich. It's turkey-I wasn't sure what you like."

Will felt his agitation begin to dissipate as he looked at Sharon. He let his eyes roam her body briefly, appreciating the picture she presented. She looked different today, sexier, but he didn't know if it was something she'd done or if the way he thought of her had simply changed.

"Thank you," he said. Not sure how she'd feel about contact in the office, even behind closed doors, he moved slowly, snaking one arm around her waist, beneath her blazer, to pull her closer. She came willingly and tilted her face up to his. He bent to kiss her, gently at first, then deeper as she allowed. He felt himself beginning to respond to her and pulled his mouth from hers, still holding her to him.

"I like turkey," he told her.

Sharon's green eyes sparkled in response and she gave him a small smile.

"You look tired," he said.

"So do you."

"I'm planning to leave as soon as I finish this last file. The kids are going to the sitter after school today so I'm hoping to get a nap in before they get home."

"Ah," Sharon nodded, plucking imaginary fuzz from Will's jacket. "I'm leaving now, actually."

"Are you going home?" Will asked. He tucked a lock of hair behind Sharon's ear.

"Mm-hm," she hummed, leaning into his touch.

"Are you going to nap?" Will asked again, softer this time. He was enjoying this game, his questions and her coy answers.

"I-ahhh," she sighed, eyes closing as Will slipped one hand up into her hair and massaged the back of her head. "I don't know yet."

Will withdrew from her and stepped away. "Well, enjoy your afternoon," he said, words dismissive, but the intent in his gaze unmistakable.

"Yes, sir," Sharon said before moving toward the door.

"Oh, and Captain Raydor?" Will stopped her as she stepped out into the hallway.

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you for the sandwich."

* * *

Will had never done paperwork so quickly. From the moment Sharon had left his office, he hadn't focused on anything but finishing the last case file as quickly as possible so he could meet her.

That, and the amazing turkey sandwich she'd left him. It was delicious.

His fatigue forgotten, he practically bounded down the hallway from the elevator to her door. He hesitated for a split second, hoping he hadn't misread her unspoken invitation. What the hell-he was here now. He knocked.

Sharon answered after a moment and wordlessly let him in. As soon as she had locked the door behind them, Will had her pinned against it, his mouth on hers and his hands gripping her hips, the wool of her skirt scratchy under his palms.

"What took you so long?" Sharon managed to get out between kisses. She made quick work of Will's buttons and pushed his jacket and dress shirt from his shoulders.

Will released her long enough to shrug both articles to the floor, then slid his hands roughly up her skirt. "I worked as fast as I could," he apologized.

Sharon yelped as he nipped at the delicate skin over her collarbone. She shoved him back then, back toward the couch, pulling his undershirt over his head as they went. He gave her the same treatment, then crushed his mouth to hers hungrily and reached beneath her skirt again, all the way up to grasp her panties. He pulled them down and she kicked them away before falling forward to straddle him on the couch.

In a frenzy, the pair unbuttoned, unzipped, and moved aside to remove the remaining barriers, and then Sharon was sinking down onto him, a ragged cry leaving her as Will grunted and thrust up.

She paused for a moment to adjust and Will studied her. Sharon's head was thrown back, baring a long column of pale neck. Her hair fell down over her shoulders, the ends just grazing the top of a black satin bra, the straps of which had fallen from her shoulders in their haste. Will thought to remove her bra, wanting to see as much of her as he could, but then she started to move and all deliberate thought flew from his mind.

Bracing one arm on the back of the couch and one foot on the floor, Sharon rose and fell, setting a steady pace. Every few strokes she'd alter her movement, twisting slightly, or squeezing him inside her. The variation drove him mad. He clutched her hips and began meeting her thrust for thrust, causing her to gasp at each.

Soon Sharon's cries grew frantic and Will pulled her down to him, kissing her hard and encouraging her with a murmured "that's it, that's it." When he felt her begin to clench around him, he ordered, "Sharon, look at me." As her eyes lifted to his, he thrust up hard twice, three times, and then she was crying out loudly and pulsing around him, dragging him with her into his own groan of completion.

Sharon lay draped over Will's chest. He unfastened her bra then and smoothed his hands along the long planes of her back, soothing her as she caught her breath. She drew her leg up from the floor and rested it outside his along the couch, relaxing more fully into him. Will slid his hands down over her ass and squeezed gently, realizing then how much of her he had yet to explore. He vowed to himself to take his time with her next time, to acquaint himself with every inch of her and discover every sensitive spot, every touch that she liked.

After her breathing returned to normal, she stirred, and Will felt a row of feathery kisses along his jaw. "Now what?" he asked her, thinking he'd happily remain like this all afternoon if she wanted.

Sharon raised her head to look at him. "Can you stay awhile?"

Will nodded and stroked her hair.

"Then maybe a nap would be nice. I barely slept last night and you couldn't have fared much better."

"Nap sounds great."

"Bed's more comfortable," Sharon said, easing up from him, clutching her undone bra to her chest and pushing her skirt back down "Meet you there?" she smiled.

As Sharon disappeared down the hallway toward the bathroom, Will stood and began gathering up their clothing. He draped his dress shirt and suit jacket over a chair and folded Sharon's shirt and placed it on the arm of the couch. Her panties he briefly considered tucking into his pocket, but then left them with her shirt.

Will made his way down the hall then, and after a quick stop in the now-vacant bathroom, he joined Sharon in her bedroom. She was moving around the space, drawing shades and pulling curtains. She'd changed into new panties and a matching camisole in light pink, and Will marveled once again at the many contradictions of Sharon Raydor. Now he'd always be wondering what sort of silky, feminine lingerie she was hiding under her tailored suits.

"You're overdressed," she told him, nodding toward his pants as she pulled down the bed covers. He stepped out of them, folded them carefully to preserve the crease, and placed them on Sharon's dresser.

Will joined her in her bed, noting that he'd left it not much more than twelve hours earlier, and thinking that it felt quite natural to be returning again so soon. Whatever was happening here with Sharon was easy so far, and he hesitated to think too much beyond that assessment for fear of overanalyzing to the point of ruin. All he knew was that he loved time with her, he loved sex with her, and he wanted more of both, as much as she'd allow him.

She snuggled into his side and he lifted his arm to make room for her. Sharon's arm came around him and she began tracing light patterns over the contours of his abdomen.

"It feels decadent," she murmured.

"What does?" he asked, resting his hand on her lower back.

"Leaving work early. Sleeping in the afternoon."

"But mind-blowing sex after lunch is run-of-the-mill?" he teased.

Sharon giggled for a moment, then fell silent.

"What is it?" Will pulled back slightly so he could see her face. Her brow was furrowed and her fingers tapped his stomach restlessly.

Sharon took a breath. "We're not supposed to be doing this."

Will's first instinct was to placate her, to tell her that no one would find out about them and everything would be fine. But that initial instinct was suddenly overtaken by a desire to be perfectly frank. For the first time in a long time, maybe in his life, Will felt like he needed to _earn_ this woman. Sharon Raydor might stand for a few bedroom romps to relieve some stress during an emotionally difficult case, but Will didn't kid himself-if he wanted any hope of hanging onto her past the immediate future, literally past the next few hours, he was going to have to act like a man who was worth her time.

Sharon was right. Without notification to Will's superior officer, their relationship was prohibited. More importantly, there were no protections from legal action for either of them if something were to happen down the line, and though Will was of course concerned about his own career, he in no way wanted to leave Sharon exposed to any possible negative repercussions.

Will turned to his side to face her. "The ball's in your court, Sharon. If you decide you want to continue this, I'm happy to have that conversation with the Chief. That's all it takes."

Sharon searched his face. "What do _you_ want?"

Will cupped her cheek, drawing his thumb along her cheekbone. "I'd like to have more decadent afternoons with you." He dropped a kiss on her forehead as she smiled back at him. "Evenings too." Another kiss, to her nose this time. "Maybe the occasional decadent morning. Especially since I already know you make great coffee."

He captured her mouth this time, kissing her fully. Sharon groaned against him, returning the kiss as she slid a hand down his chest, over his waist to stroke him through his boxers.

Will caught her hand and pulled it back up between them. "I thought we were napping," he admonished.

She sighed and Will couldn't help but laugh at her exaggerated disappointment. He quickly pinned her onto her back and held her hands above her head. "I need a little more rest for what you have in mind," he told her, "but that doesn't mean there aren't other options."

Sharon punctuated her approval by arching up to him, and Will took the opportunity to lift her camisole and slip it over her head. Straddling her hips, Will sat back to look at her.

"You're stunning," he told her, before beginning the exploration he'd resolved to do earlier.

He mapped her body, learning that she had a very sensitive spot just behind her ear, she was ticklish in the creases of her hips, and she'd moan at orgasm-volume if he pressed his thumbs into the balls of her feet.

With her guidance, he learned other things too, like that two fingers were just right, especially when curled precisely so, and soon Sharon was panting his name and coming apart beneath his hands and mouth.

By the time Will moved back up to lay beside her again, Sharon's eyes were already closed, her breathing even. Will maneuvered them so her back was to his chest, then tucked the sheets up over them. They slept.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharon Raydor twisted in her chair, trying to stretch away the ache in her back. She was too old to be having the sort of trysts she'd been having with Will over the past two days and she was starting to feel the effects. She had only herself to blame-Will was nothing but gentle unless she demanded more from him. On the couch like that yesterday afternoon-what was she thinking? If she was going to keep this up, she was going to have to add some weight-bearing and flexibility exercises to her usual workout.

If she was going to keep this up.

That was the question, wasn't it?

She had a hard time explaining the events of the past two days. Sharon prided herself on being close with her team and when she'd learned-or thought she'd learned-that one of her officers had been suffering without her knowledge, she'd been dually concerned for Ally's safety and angry at herself for not picking up on the circumstances sooner. She felt a responsibility to look out for her subordinates but she'd failed, and been very hard on herself because of it.

But Will had been there. And beyond acting like the competent boss that he was and addressing the case in a discreet manner, he'd looked out for her as well. It was what Sharon would have done for her own officers and she was more than a little surprised that brusque Chief Pope had a compassionate side.

She'd brought Will home with her because his invitation had been kind and she did want the company. Knowing herself, she was sure she'd fret all evening and not sleep a wink for fear of what Ally might be enduring. She hadn't intended to sleep with Will, that is, not until he kissed her. And then she'd wanted him desperately, wanted to distract both of them, wanted to feel something besides frustration. She thought that's what Will wanted too, but it wasn't, and he hadn't allowed it to be that for either of them. Her life would be simpler if the past two days had just been about sex. But there were too many pieces that didn't fit that simple explanation, and if Sharon had learned one thing from Ally Moore, it was to pay attention to the evidence, however small, that didn't quite fit the narrative.

Yesterday Will had said that whenever she was ready, he'd inform the Chief that they were seeing each other. The offer humbled her. The offices, back stairwells, and broom closets of the LAPD were littered with relationships that were kept secret only to fail spectacularly. That Will would offer to do what most officers-certainly most superior officers-flat-out refused was a pretty big piece of evidence contradicting the "just sex" theory.

Sharon flushed at memories of the previous afternoon. She'd woken to Will warm along her back, his hand caressing her low belly and his erection pressing insistently between them. He'd taken her just like that, dreamily, nuzzling that spot beneath her ear that made her purr. Afterward, Sharon had rolled onto her back as Will propped himself up on his elbow to look at her. "Decadent," she'd mused again, grazing the backs of her fingers along his chest. He'd leaned in to kiss her...

The ringing phone startled Sharon out of her reverie. She didn't even realize she'd closed her eyes and reclined back in her chair. She gathered herself and answered the phone.

"Raydor."

"Good afternoon, Captain." Will's tone was all business. "I'm calling about the reclassification of your OIS from FID to Major Crimes."

"I've already taken care of it. My preliminary reports and FID evidence have been transferred. I should finish my final report within the next half hour and I'll walk it down to Chief Johnson myself so that Major Crimes can close the case."

"I see." Will replied, obviously surprised. "Then, good work, Captain."

"Thank you, sir." Sharon waited, but Will didn't hang up. "Chief Pope, is there something else I can help you with?"

Will was silent for a beat, then spoke. "Sharon, I- Look, I know we've spent a lot of time together over the past two days and I don't want to, I don't know what you call it, be that guy who smothers, but-"

"Will?" Sharon interrupted his rambling.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to take me out to dinner tonight?"

She heard Will's sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "Yes. Estelle has the kids this weekend and I'd really like to take you out properly."

"I accept. Though I'll warn you I don't have much of an appetite after spending half the afternoon down in Autopsy. I've never quite gotten used to that smell."

"Something light then. Noted." He paused. "Sharon, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I'd like to tell the Chief I'm taking you out. And, if things go well, possibly spending the weekend with you."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, Will. Okay. But does the Chief need to know the part about the weekend? I'm not sure you're required to disclose that level of detail."

"You're probably right. I just threw that in to indicate to you that I have big plans for you."

"That's starting to sound a bit like smothering."

Will laughed. "You're right, you're right. Meet me whenever you wrap up."

Sharon hung up the phone. Informing the Chief shouldn't be a big deal; it wasn't as though he'd send around a memo. But it said something about Will, and about how he felt about her, and how she felt about him too, she guessed, since she was letting him go through with it.

Sharon had never done paperwork so quickly.

* * *

Two hours later, Sharon and Will were tucked away in a tiny pizzeria in West Hollywood. They shared a large pie with the thinnest crust Sharon had ever seen, topped with mushrooms at Will's request and spinach at hers. The glass of shiraz Sharon was sipping had restored her appetite, and so far she was matching Will slice for slice.

"I like that you eat," Will told her, nodding his approval. "Some women don't eat much, or at least, not in front of other people. But you do."

Sharon raised an eyebrow at him.

"That came out wrong," he realized aloud.

"You're damn right it did. But I'm so hungry I don't care." She reached for another slice. "I've been too anxious to eat much over the past few days and I've been getting more exercise than I typically do, as you may know." She winked. "Seems it's all caught up to me tonight. Plus this pizza's really good." She took a large bite and chewed, humming with pleasure. "I may not be able to move after this," she said, draining the last of her wine.

It was Will's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I hope my immobility doesn't interfere with your big plans for me," Sharon taunted.

"The plans are flexible." Will bantered back.

As they sat waiting for their check, Sharon toyed with her wineglass, tracing the rim over and over with her fingertip. Will noticed her fidgeting.

"Something on your mind?"

She glanced up at him, unsure of whether to ask what she wanted to ask. She didn't want to press him about his conversation with the Chief, but she found it strange that he hadn't brought it up yet. "I was just thinking you hadn't mentioned talking to the Chief yet, how it went."

Will sat back, startled. "I didn't say anything before because I thought it was obvious. We're here, so it went fine." Will's tone was elusive and Sharon sensed there was more to the story.

"What did he say, Will?"

"Well..." Will squirmed, but Sharon wasn't letting him off the hook now. She pinned him with her sternest gaze. "All right, if you must know, he said, 'Pope, don't fuck up this time.'" Will frowned sheepishly.

Sharon feigned ignorance. "Hm, I wonder what he meant by that." She nearly continued with a crack about Will's failed romantic ventures but then saw his discomfort. Perhaps that was a conversation for another time; she changed course and opted for reassurance instead. "You're doing fine so far. All the same, I'm glad the guy in charge of the SWAT teams and helicopters is on _my_side."

* * *

The kissing started in the elevator and continued haphazardly through her door and down the dark hallway to her bedroom: light brushes of lips, noses grazing along cheeks. Sharon thought that perhaps the nicest feeling in the world was going home with someone she knew she was about to have great sex with. There was no tension, just calm certainty.

Last night after Will had gone, she'd cleaned up the room a bit, changed the bed sheets, and set out some candles. Hope or confidence-she wasn't sure which-but she'd had a hunch Will would be back here with her tonight.

She lit the candles one by one as Will leaned against the doorframe and observed. He'd removed his suit jacket and tie somewhere between the front door and her bedroom, and as she watched, he slowly undid the top button of his shirt.

Sharon sat on the edge of the bed. "Oh yeah, keep going, Chief."

Will took a step into the room and continued unbuttoning his way down the shirt placket. He looked up at her through his lashes and gave her what he must have assumed was a sultry stare. Sharon snorted.

"What's so funny?" Will smirked as he shrugged his shirt from his shoulders, flexing his chest as he did so. Sharon's laughter halted at the sight and she felt heat blossoming in her low abdomen. The warmth spread through her body and she moved to shed her jacket. Will held up a hand to signal her to stop. "No. Let me." Less ceremoniously this time, he doffed the remainder of his clothing, except his boxers.

He approached Sharon and pulled her up to stand. Reverently, he removed her jacket and placed it on her dresser. Her shirt, skirt, and stockings quickly followed. Sharon felt a blush creep across her cheeks as she watched Will stand and take in the sight of her. Anticipating this very moment, Sharon had put on her best lingerie that morning, a set of midnight blue lace that had itched her terribly all day. The suffering was worth it though, as Will inhaled sharply and reached to span her ribcage with his hands, brushing his thumbs over the lacy side panels of her bra.

Sharon reached behind her back to undo the clasp but Will stopped her again. "Leave it," he said, "if you don't mind?"

Sharon shook her head. Will took her hand and pulled her toward the bed. He sat back against the headboard and guided her up to straddle him. They sat face to face, not touching except where Sharon rested astride Will's lap.

Will moved first, tangling his hands in Sharon's hair and kissing her gently. She started to lean into him, but he pushed her back again. She grumbled in frustration.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm seducing you." He traced her collarbones with one finger.

"You already have me in bed. I don't think seduction is necessary." She rocked against his groin, trying to entice him.

"Would you just slow down and enjoy it?" He pulled her in again for another kiss, harder this time, his hands firm on her head, indicating he was going to be in charge for a while.

"Yes, sir," Sharon breathed, as his mouth moved to her neck.

He laced his fingers with hers and folded her hands behind her, pinning them against her lower back. The position forced her to arch toward him, and he leaned down to plant kisses across her chest, then lower, along the top of the cups of her bra. His mouth soothed her skin and she moaned softly. Will grinned into her and buried his face in her cleavage, alternately nipping at the lace and nuzzling the swells of her breasts.

Sharon's head fell back, her hair cascading down to reach their joined hands. Will released one hand to tangle deep in the hair at the back of her head. He pressed his fingertips into her scalp and circled, drawing a keening cry from her.

"Yes," she hissed, both at his caress and at the sudden pooling of moisture between her legs. "Will, I want to touch you too."

Will released her other hand and she flung her arms around his neck, crashing her mouth to his. He fell further into the pile of pillows and she followed, leaning over his torso.

Sharon couldn't help but feel some pride that Will's control hadn't lasted long. His hands moved eagerly over her now, squeezing her ass and pulling her down against his hips. _Finally_, Sharon thought as Will unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor. His hands found her breasts and he kneaded them firmly, tweaking her nipples until she squeaked. She dug her nails into his shoulders and dragged them down his back until Will growled at the sting. He sank his teeth into her shoulder and she gasped, then forced his head back to suck hard at his neck.

They continued to push and pull at each other roughly, pants mixed with hisses and growls, escalating, until finally, Will grasped Sharon by the waist and thew her down at the foot of the bed. He tore her panties down her legs and tossed them aside before pushing her knees apart and thrusting two fingers into her abruptly.

Sharon cried out and snapped back into the mattress, her fingers and toes digging hard into the sheets. Will held still inside her, easing over her to stroke her hair with one hand and pepper her face with kisses. "Easy," he soothed, and she calmed, her lust changing timbre from aggressive to yielding.

He began moving his fingers then, gently in and out, finding the spots he knew would make her sing. She pitched her hips, trying to draw his hand deeper.

"I want you," she managed to get out between long sighs.

"Soon," he promised. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, sucking gently and laving her nipples with his tongue, curling his fingers in her until she rose and went rigid, and then fell back, boneless, onto the bed.

Will lay on his side next to her as she rested. When her eyes fluttered open and found his, he was smiling at her. "You like to get a little pushy sometimes, huh?"

Sharon hid her face in his shoulder. "I guess I do. Sometimes. You too."

"Maybe. But I'll never hurt you."

"I know," Sharon said, wondering if he was still thinking of the Moore case too.

It occurred to her then how lucky she'd been to have Will through this, to feel for the first time like someone was encouraging her work rather than standing in her way or resenting her for doing her job. By a fortuitous twist, she'd found some accord with him, both professionally and personally, and on both fronts he was quickly becoming a dependable support. She felt like he was reading her in a way other people seemed to be unable or unwilling to do, but she didn't know if he was more perceptive than most or she was simply more open with him.

She felt as though she'd taken a lot from him these past few days and hadn't given much in return. Her body, perhaps, but even that offering he'd transposed into caring for her. Circumstances had made her vulnerable this week but now that her case was closed, she felt more like herself again, more generous, more energetic, and she wanted to direct that at Will.

Her strength returning, Sharon sat up. She studied Will, took in his darkened eyes, the shadows of the flickering candlelight in the grooves of his muscles, the impressive tenting of his boxers-she pushed him onto his back and relieved him of the shorts before crawling over him and caressing his chest. She bent to kiss along the narrow valley between his pectoral muscles. noting their firmness as she dragged her fingers across his flat nipples. She moved lower, exploring her way with hands and mouth across his stomach, feeling taut muscle beneath smooth skin. Lower still, she stroked his length, earning a low groan and his hands back in her hair.

Sharon took him in her mouth then and worked him slowly, listening for his reactions to find out what he liked best. She could hear him getting close, his breathing shallow and quick now, and she paused momentarily, releasing him with a soft pop and meeting his eyes. He answered her unspoken question by pulling her back up to him.

He flipped them both and positioned himself between her legs. "I don't know how long I'll be able to hold on for you," he apologized.

"I don't care," she breathed. "Please, now."

Will sank into her and began moving immediately in long, measured strokes. After just a few, he lifted Sharon's knees high over his shoulders, leaning forward to press her thighs down along her chest.

"Ok?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Mmhm," she replied, eyes closed against the pleasure. The stretch in the backs of her legs felt good and the depths Will was now reaching inside her absolutely exquisite. She clenched around him, urging him to keep moving.

Will lost his rhythm shortly and was soon thrusting into her with abandon. Sharon's cries blended with his groans until she was coming, and he was coming in her, and she was surrounded by the sound of her own screams and Will shouting her name.

* * *

Sharon wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror to examine her reflection. As she let her hair down from its loose knot atop her head, she noticed bite marks on her shoulder. She'd have to make Will pay for those later. Sharon slipped on her purple satin robe and cinched the belt securely.

She found Will in the living room. He was wearing the LAPD sweatpants and tank Sharon had set out for him after his shower-the force always issued sweats that were way too big for most of the female officers. Will had turned on the television and was watching an old rerun of _Cheers_. When he saw her, he patted the cushion next to him and made space for her to tuck herself into his side. He tossed a throw blanket over them and pulled Sharon close.

"It's still early," he said. "What do you want to do?"

"This is nice," she sighed. "I like this show."

"Kirstie Alley or Shelley Long?" he quizzed her.

"Bebe Neuwirth, of course," Sharon countered. "She's sexy-stern."

"Sexy-stern, huh? Can't imagine you liking that," Will teased. Sharon pretended to be affronted.

"Look what you did to me," she said, pulling her robe aside to reveal the bite marks she'd discovered.

"Oh yeah, what about this?" Will turned to show her the other side of his neck, on which a deep purple bruise was forming.

Sharon gasp morphed into a giggle. "That's going to show."

"Yes it is. And an Assistant Chief cannot be seen with a hickey."

"Nope, certainly can't. You're just going to have to hide out here until it goes away, I guess." Sharon shrugged nonchalantly.

They sat quietly, watching the episode, until Sharon declared, "I think Brenda and I called a truce today."

"Why? I mean, great, but why now?"

"An innocent man died two nights ago, and he might not have if she and I were more professional."

"We all made mistakes in this case." Will was emphatic. "I don't want to hear you blaming yourself for anything. Brenda either, really, though she has a lot to think about. But I'm glad you're both making an effort to work together. It's for the good of the force."

"That's what we agreed on. Though I really think she should just do what I say."

"I know you like being the boss. I like that about you."

Sharon considered his statement. "Is that what you like?" she murmured. She willed him to understand what she was asking. She wanted to know why his demeanor toward her had changed so dramatically in just a few short days, how he'd gone from barely tolerating her-she knew that's how he felt; it was the way the entire LAPD felt about her-to telling the Chief that he was taking her to dinner. The latter wasn't any sort of commitment but it wasn't casual either, and she wanted to understand it.

Will's powers of perception didn't disappoint. He turned off the tv, casting the room into darkness but for some faint moonlight shining through the windows. Once her eyes adjusted, Sharon could make out Will's face just inches from hers. His eyes shone, reflecting the light, intensifying his gaze.

"This has been fast, hasn't it," he stated.

She nodded.

"Too fast for you? You know, my hickey and I can leave any time. I mean that. I shouldn't have assumed anything about the weekend. I'll go right now if you want, no hard feelings."

"Will, stop." Sharon pulled her legs beneath her and kneeled facing Will. "That's not what I meant." She searched for words. "I just wonder how we went from me being the Wicked Witch at the beginning of the week-and don't deny it, I know that's what you thought of me too-to being here on my couch..."

"...postcoital?" Will offered.

Sharon blushed. "Well, yes."

Will sank back into the cushions and looked straight ahead, gathering his thoughts. "I'm not sure. I know I saw you differently on Wednesday when you came to me about Ally Moore. You were so concerned about her-I'd never seen that side of you before. I suddenly saw so many contrasts in you, and I was just, I don't know, captivated."

He turned to look at her finally. "Plus, you're very, very sexy. No getting around that."

Sharon smiled. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome. Now do you want to tell me all the things you like about me?"

"I do. Let's see." Sharon began counting off items on her fingers. "One, the little pocket squares you wear with your suits are adorable. Two, I like that your desk is really big."

Will leered. "I could show you around my desk sometime if you'd like. Let you appreciate the full size of it."

"Mm, I'd like that. What else...oh yes, three, you're very good at-" Sharon leaned forward and whispered into Will's ear, launching him into chuckles.

"We'll do more of that then. I didn't realize you enjoyed it so much." Will pulled Sharon into his lap and kissed her thoroughly, stealing her breath and quickening her pulse and making her think she might never get enough of him. "I want you again," he rasped, "unless you want to talk more." He stopped and waited, giving her time to say or ask more if she wanted to.

Sharon shook her head. She was done with words for the day, except for four final ones.

"Take me to bed." 


	4. Chapter 4

A clap of thunder jolted Will awake and set his heart racing. He blinked in the darkness, struggling to orient himself. Sharon's-he was at Sharon's, in her bedroom, in her bed. She lay next to him on her back, one arm tucked around her waist, the other behind her head. She slept soundly, oblivious to the approaching storm.

Will studied her as best he could in the weak light. He loved looking at her face in repose, either while she slept or as she rested after making love. She looked so peaceful then, and he felt at peace seeing her that way.

The crinkles in the corners of Sharon's eyes told him that she had once laughed a lot and he wondered how long ago that was and what had changed in her life to make her less jovial now. The creases at the sides of her mouth told of time spent in more serious expression, and this was the Sharon he knew better, the somber, contemplative version of the woman. He pondered the way a woman's life revealed itself across her countenance and wondered if Sharon guessed at his own history when she looked at his face.

He wondered how much of it she already knew.

Another thunderclap, closer and louder this time, startled Sharon and she jumped up. Will sat up and wrapped his arms around her. "You're ok, it's just a storm."

"It woke you too?"

"Yes, a while ago. You slept through the beginning."

"That's strange. I'm usually a light sleeper."

"Not tonight. Maybe it was all the pizza you ate."

Sharon poked Will's side. "Very funny. Or maybe someone just wore me out."

"Are you complaining?" Will asked in jest but panicked for a moment that perhaps his ardor was overwhelming her. He wanted her all the time. Her inviting curves, her responsiveness to his touch, the way she tasted-he couldn't get enough of her and he probably wouldn't stop trying if his own physical limitations didn't get in the way.

"Not at all."

"Then get over here." Relieved, Will pulled Sharon to straddle his lap and bent his knees so she could lean back against them. He ran his hands over her stomach, spanning her waist, tracing her bellybutton, and finally resting his palms on her abdomen. He felt a rumble beneath his hands. He laughed. "Are you hungry again?"

"I am. I may need a midnight snack."

Will was hungry as well. They'd been active since dinner, beginning with their vigorous round in the bedroom when they arrived at Sharon's. After their break on the couch and Sharon's command for Will to take her back to bed, they'd only made it to the hallway before reaching for each other again, beginning against the wall and finishing on the floor. Once in the bedroom, Will had set Sharon on the edge of the bed and then knelt between her thighs until she was completely spent.

"Me too." Will leaned in to kiss her and added, "unless you want me to do that thing you like first."

"Mm. Maybe I do." Sharon met Will's mouth as the rain finally reached them. It pelted against the windows, muffling the sounds of their kisses.

Will straightened his knees and spread them, lowering Sharon down onto her back. He bent her legs to grasp her feet and place them against his chest, rubbing them vigorously to warm them.

Sharon hummed with pleasure as Will began his massage. He started slowly, just caressing her arches lightly with his thumbs. Will delighted at Sharon's expression-her eyes were shut tight and she was grinning. Her lips parted and she began to pant softly as Will's hands moved to squeeze her heels. He teased around the balls of her feet for a few moments before pressing into the centers firmly. At this, Sharon cried out sharply, but Will was unrelenting. He stroked hard with his thumbs as Sharon threw her head back and began undulating her hips.

Will's eyes trained up her long legs to her restless hips and he saw that she was wet. The sight of her writhing before him and the sounds she was making-low, feral groans-had him painfully hard, and he growled her name in question.

"Will!" she commanded in answer, and in an instant he'd dropped her feet and flipped forward to thrust into her. She was already close and after a short chorus of unintelligible words was contracting fast around him. Will slowed as she came, trying to draw out her orgasm.

When she stilled, Will sat back on the bed and pulled Sharon up against him, arranging her legs around his waist and crossing his beneath her. He lifted her carefully to slide into her again, and Sharon sighed as she sank down over him. He kissed her, plundering her mouth with his tongue, as he took up a gentle rocking motion.

Sharon wrapped her arms around his back and kissed a path down Will's neck. "No more bruises," he warned her.

"No more bruises," she affirmed, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Will spoke quietly as they moved, telling her how much he liked making her feel good, how beautiful she was, and how he wanted to do this for and with her every night if she'd let him. Sharon clung tightly to him and came again, and Will soon followed, his soft groan muffled in her thick hair.

Will freshened up while Sharon retrieved some food from the kitchen. He found her there, in her purple robe, stacking cheese, crackers, and grapes on a tray. She held out a glass of water to him and he drained it; she refilled it and placed it next to hers on the tray. "Let me take that," Will offered, and followed her back into the bedroom.

Sharon hopped onto the bed and moved covers and pillows to make space for the tray and Will. The pair sat and snacked quietly, just listening to the rain. Sharon was first to break the silence.

"My husband used to love rainstorms. He made me appreciate them, the power of nature, the cleansing effect of the water...I find them soothing now."

Will watched her pop a grape into her mouth and chew thoughtfully as she gazed out the window at the dark gray sky. She turned back to face him. "Car accident. Drunk driver. Twenty-one years ago."

"I'm sorry," Will said.

"Thank you." Sharon nodded. "I didn't know if you knew."

"I didn't."

Sharon sipped her water. "I've dated off and on since, but nothing really serious. Nothing ever quite fit. I'm, well, you know how I am. The witch thing."

"It's not true. At least, it's not the whole truth."

Sharon stroked Will's cheek with her palm. "You're good to me."

"You've said that before."

"I meant it then too."

Will cleared his throat and toyed with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "I'm divorced. Twice."

"I know."

"Everyone knows, I imagine."

"Yes, and about you and Brenda too." Sharon's tone was neutral.

Will searched her face, trying to discern if she was thinking more than she was saying about his past relationships. She saw his concern. "I don't assume you're going to hurt me, Will. I'm just as likely to hurt you. But I won't today, and neither will you. So let's just focus on enjoying what we have now. Whatever happens, happens."

Will could only nod and consider the novelty of being with a woman who didn't want some sort of commitment from him. This wasn't a one-night stand, wasn't even a three-night stand. It was more, but still undefined. It could be whatever they wanted.

Will put their empty tray on the floor next to the bed and reached for Sharon. Wordlessly, he untied her robe and slipped it from her shoulders, dropping it onto the floor. She removed his sweatpants, and they both crawled beneath the covers. Will pulled Sharon over him and tangled his fingers with hers, resting their hands over his heart. They fell asleep together as the rain continued to fall.


End file.
